Throwing Stones
by Unagi Baby
Summary: It's been two years since Steven lost his title as Champion. Since then his life and humanity have crumbled as the chains of the Devon Corporation have gotten tighter. Can the man of stone be put back together? Steven/May, Hoennchampionshipping. Rated T for some unsupervised raunchiness. Updates Wednesdays. -I do not own Pokemon-
1. Chapter 1: The Boy with Everything and

**Welcome to Throwing Stones! Updates Wednesdays.**

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**Chapter One: The Boy with Everything and Nothing**

_Thief._

_Coward._

_Murderer._

Steven threw a dart for every insult that had been thrown at him that week, each stroke relieving a small sliver of anger.

The billiards room was dark and warm. Hints of cigar from long ago still hung in the walls and thin carpet. Stains from another time decorated worn sofas. The dust would suggest that the room and been forgotten, if not for Steven's slight silhouette in a corner.

It had become evening without his noticing, but Steven didn't care. Whether it was day or night, he'd had practiced enough with his darts that he was a perfect shot, although he didn't care much about that either at that moment.

He took another swig of whiskey from a bottle he'd taken from his father's liquor cabinet. His father's. Everything, his father's.

He threw another dart. Granted, Steven had been able to lead a more than comfortable life with the money made by his father's- another dart fled from his hand at the thought of him- company the Devon Corporation, but these advantages came with a heavy price.

Steven sighed and sipped. He winced at the burn from honey colored liquor. The full moon's glow washed over the dartboard, the carpet, and his legs, through a great arched window as tall as the vaulted ceilings were high. He squinted at the wall. The darts had formed in a neat clump around the bullseye. All the darts that was, all but one; the last one he had thrown while thinking of his father. That one had hit the wall. He'd become too drunk to throw straight.

He cursed and thought about checking the time. Did he dare? He didn't want to, but at that point, it was a necessary evil. He knew it was late. Shaking and slapping himself into what he hoped would be a greater consciousness, he peered at his wrist.

_8:46, _the Go Watch seemed to taunt.

_Blast! _He was almost late for his nine o'clock appointment. He hated the barrage of meetings that he was constantly subjected to, but they weren't optional. Besides, Selenium, or worse, his father would come to try to find him if he was late. And if his father found that he was drinking again... let's just say that that would not go well. The only thing there was to do was to go to the meeting room and wait for the oncoming tornado that was Selenium.

~.~

Like many of the other rooms in the older part of the mansion, the conference room was all dark wood with many tall windows draped in mulberry silk. Steven sat in a tall burgundy and gold brocade chair and drummed the tips of his fingers on the enormous ovular table.

8:58. He clinked his heavy steel cuffs on the table.

8:59. He was starting to get a rhythm now, steel cuff and tapping, a sort of drum beat.

9:00 exactly and Selenium burst through the door with briefcase in hand. She was never early and never late.

Her tall, tan, slim figure and wine colored dress looked like they were made for the room. For once, he thought, that in another life he may have found her pretty. This was not that life. In this life, he could safely say, she could take a long walk off a short pier.

"Mr. Stone, you were eighteen years old as of October sixth and no longer a child..." she started, as condescending as ever.

_Oh joy. _

He zoned in and out of her lecture, half listening, a quarter thinking about what he was going to have for dinner, and a quarter wondering if he'd be able to hold his lunch until the end of the meeting. He gave perfunctory one or two worded answers to assure her that he was still listening every once and awhile in between her breaths, which were few and far between.

"You're in charge while your father is gone on his business trip to Petalburg City, you know!"

"Of course." _Please stop speaking._

"If you want to go back to that _hovel_ in Canyonville you're going to have to behave... I don't understand what you even _like_ about that place," she said with a disgust that could only be bred from wealth. Steven knew it well. This behavior was so common among those close to him that he barely noticed it most of the time.

"I will." _Is it over yet?_

"You're the heir to the Devon throne, so you need to start acting like it."

"Okay." _Kill me._

"And when are you going to fire that maid of yours? She's been stealing from you for months!" At this, she reached over the table and snapped in Steven's face. "Hello? Mr. Stone, you must take this seriously!"

The snapping a thunder clap to his already throbbing headache. Steven had to fight with every ounce of his being not to groan in pain. "Morgan doesn't take more than ten or fifteen poke worth of stuff a week. Besides, she's a good maid and I wouldn't know where to get a better one," he said irritably.

Selenium huffed haughtily and smoothed her already immaculately styled chocolate brown hair. "Do you even know what your father is doing in Petalburg?"

The world was starting to spin. He'd had too much to drink. In his haze, he woozily replied, "Do I look like I care in the slightest?" Immediately, he regretted it. He'd done such a good job pretending to be a good little punching bag for Selenium's relentless rage, and now all that hard work was for nothing.

So, like all idiots and drunkards, he decided to double down.

Selenium's mouth hung open, speechless, as if she were trying to catch flies. He could only watch helplessly as the expression slowly twisted into anger. Her mouth snapped closed and her jaw clenched. "Mr. Stone- wait." she started, but paused. She sniffed the air and gasped. "Steven Stone! Are you drunk again?"

There was no longer a point in pretending. Drunkenly, Steven said, "Wow, someone's perceptive. Guess you win a prize!" he mocked. "Look, Selenium, let's just reschedule this whole this whole thing, alright?" he attempted to persuade, and got up to leave, a little wobbly on his feet.

"No, Mr. Stone, we cannot. We _will_ sit down and talk about these issues or I will tell your father about your," she paused and squinted her eyes disdainfully, "relapse. And, who knows how long the house arrest will be for this time," she threatened.

House arrest. What a joke. It was an affectionate term coined by the house cook long ago for the dozens upon dozens of punishments that were hung over Steven's like head like a guillotine whenever he bucked the rules too hard.

Steven drummed his fingers on the table. Fine. This is how it was to be. The witch had won, and she would get her way.

He took his seat and cracked his neck, mustering every ounce of sobriety he had left and calling upon the gods of bullshittery for help. "The executives of Silph and Devon will be having a meeting to discuss the new labeling laws later next week. Doctor Paisley and I will speak about his work on the new running shoes tomorrow morning when I go down to the lab for my yearly check-up. In the meantime, you will make the arrangements for Morgan's thirty-day eviction notice and call the moving company to help her with her things. You will absolutely not schedule me another appointment with Briannica because I know that's what you were thinking," he peered at her in a haughty glare, "I will make arrangements to house the new maid that you implied that father is bringing from Petalburg City, though that is a sort of a long way to go for only a maid. And yes I will take father's pets for a walk. Any questions?" He never broke his steely gaze into her deep black eyes once.

Selenium blinked. "Yes, sir. I will take care of everything. Except maybe Briannica. I think it would do you well to see her."

"It would not," he dethroned himself with the grace of a man who'd just spent half an hour on the toilet doing unspeakable things and sauntered toward the door.

She made a sort of irritated growling noise, most likely from being the one who was dismissed rather than doing the dismissing, but dropped the rage from her tone when she spoke. "One more thing, Mr. Stone."

He was close to the doorway now. He spun, clasped his hands together under his chin, and blinked twice, putting on a perfect angel smile. "Yes, Selenium dearest?" his voice was practically dripping with sarcasm.

She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her less-than-ample chest. "She's not a maid."

"Then get me one," he waved over his shoulder absent-mindedly. And with that, Steven Stone waltzed to the doorway, barfed into the wastebasket, and marched out with confidence.

~.~

Steven did not feel well enough, nor did he have the energy to eat dinner, so he decided it was best to just go to bed.

Steven's room was, to say the least, lovely. His calamander wood, king sized, four poster bed stood draped in fine, deep violet silk. At the end of the room there was a set of ornate glass double doors that led to a balcony filled with flowers- mostly sweet violets (his mother's favorite)- that the maid watered everyday with a little, green, slightly rusted watering can.

On one side of the chamber by the doors was a polished wood armoire with mermaids carved in it, in some places outlined in gold and abalone. On its opposite, a gigantic display cabinet that kept his most precious stones he'd found along his journeys. Great purple amethysts, smooth malachites, various jaspers and citrines carved into the likeness of Beasts, of course a few evolutionary stones, even some plain old rocks, and so many other strange shapes and forms. He could remember where he had gotten each one. Each told its own story, and they were Steven's prized possessions.

He would have traded every last one to be a real person with a real life.

Steven walked to the calamander wood desk beside his bed, slipping off his purple leather oxfords as he went. He pulled an intricate handle, revealing a little blue velvet box. He took it in his hand, gingerly feeling the worn velvet under his fingers. It gave him the sort of feeling that warmed him from the inside out. Inside the box was his mother's wedding ring of Sirulian taaffeite.

He sighed. He knew his mother would not have been proud of how he acted today. He felt really... well, bad for how he treated Selenium. It was no way to treat a person, no matter how much they nagged and scolded and made you want to jump out of a window, hoping you break every bone in your body on your way down.

He shook his head silently to himself. He wasn't angry with Selenium. He was angry with Devon. For taking his childhood, his father, and even his future away from him. For all the riches he had, he truly had nothing.

Selenium would be gone by now, so it was too late to apologize. It wasn't like she'd talk to him anyway. He'd just have to do it during the next meeting, maybe get her something nice. No, he'd find her a nice stone. That was it. Something he hadn't bought, but had worked for. Something he really cared about.

He flung himself onto his bed. He tried so hard to be kind to everyone; to friends, to strangers, and even to people he didn't particularly like. But for all that, he'd forgotten his own personal adviser, someone who was _actually_ trying to help him.

"Tomorrow will be better," he whispered to himself and drifted off into sleep, the blue box still resting in his palm.

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**Good morning, krusty krew! I hope you liked this, the very first chapter of Throwing Stones! I'm so excited about returning to this project. Hey, tell me what you think about this! Feel free to PM, review, and chat on Twitter! Follow me throwingstevens for regular updates, more content, some sweet art, and more!**

**Thanks everybuggy! Don't forget to favorite, follow, and review! (Seriously, I love love love seeing what you guys think!)**


	2. Chapter 2: Old Friends

**Welcome back to Throwing Stones! My sincerest apologies for not getting a chapter out yesterday, I've been ill with the flu and struggling to take care of all my little brother's needs while my mom is out of the country.**

**Something new today! Beneath the chapter title you'll see something that says 'Listening:'. This is just a little suggestion, usually it'll be 1-3 songs that I was listening to when I was writing this chapter. It's totally optional, but if you wanna listen to 'em while you're reading the chapter, I think that'd be rad!**

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Chapter Two: Old Friends

Listening: Blank - MELVV (feat. Kennedi)

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Steven awoke to a white hot headache and a sharp pain in his left leg. He let out a long groan and tried to rub his eyes open. They protested. He cringed against the accosting sunlight peeking between his fingers.

"Sir."

Irritated and slightly embarrassed, Steven said, "Good morning, Martinov," his hands still over his eyes. He felt rather silly, but couldn't bring himself to take them off.

"Good morning to you, Mr. Stone. I was instructed to awaken you thirty minutes before your meeting with Doctor Paisley."

_Oh, fuck. _"Ah, thank you Martinov. Say, will you do me a favor?" he groaned and stretched his back.

"Why, yes, sir. That's what I'm here for," he said matter-of-factly.

"Will you close all of my curtains, please?" He was still getting used to having servants again. It had been about a week since he'd been forced to return to the Stone Mansion in Rustboro Hills. After the recent... _incident_, his father had torn him away from solitary life and insisted he return to Rustboro Hills Finishing School to re-learn how to act "like the heir to an honorable corporate empire".

"Yes, sir. Will that be all?" The room began to darken with each _swoosh_ of curtains falling.

"Can you also ask Marion to pour me an extra tall glass of Moomoo milk? And that's all."

"I can, sir."

Steven took his hands off his eyes slowly and began the process of getting used to the little light left in the room. He had them open just enough to watch Martinov's flawless, shiny, black leather shoes leave the room. "Thank you," he called after him.

"My pleasure, sir," he responded.

It took a few moments, but Steven finally got to the point to where he could look around the room without too much trouble. The clock on the wall told him he had less than twenty-five minutes left to make himself look presentable.

"Thirty minutes..." he mumbled to himself. "Who gives a person only thirty minutes? Who even set the alarm in the first place?" He yawned wide and tried to get up, but found his father's new Aaron keeping him from budging. He was both annoyed and... somewhat delighted. There had always been a soft spot in his heart for Aarons. The pokemon were about the size of a large bag of chips, somewhat canine in features, and covered in a thick (and extremely heavy) exoskeleton.

"Amelie," he said softly. The pokemon immediately opened her bright blue eyes and hopped over to him, wagging her behind and hopping around. Steven smiled and patted her on her head.

It was clear to Steven after trying once more to leave the bed that he had lost all feeling to his left leg below the knee. He grimaced. There was no time to wait for it to come back.

And so, ever so (un)gracefully, Steven hopped with his dead leg over to the full length mirror at the other end of the room. His hair was a mess, which was not unusual, and he was still in his meeting suit, which would be fine to wear out if not for the wrinkles and the god-awful smell. It had a few splotches from last night's not-so-friendly visit with Mr. Vomit Bucket, which he at that moment realized was no longer in the room. Martinov must have taken it out, he thought.

Steven stripped himself of his clothes with a little more hassle than usual and hobbled to the armoire to pick out a new suit. It seemed his brain and his body were still having a bit of trouble staying in sync, and the just-awakening-but-still-mostly-dead leg didn't help anything.

"Good morning, ladies," he said to the mermaids as he opened the large doors and took the first thing he found, which was quite out of the ordinary, as he always took a long time deciding what to wear. When he was a child he liked to pretend the mermaids watched over him while he slept to make sure no harm would come over him. The Empoleon mermaid was secretly his favorite, but he gave them all equal attention.

He looked in the mirror once he was done. He actually looked quite dashing, he thought, save for the sunken eyes. It was a cuffless deep violet suit, one he hadn't worn in years, but he didn't much care about the slightly musty smell at that moment. He looked damn good, and paired with a black tie and black dress shirt he might as well have been going to a corporate gala.

It felt as though the clock was staring him down. Twelve minutes to go. Steven rushed to the bathroom and poured himself some mouthwash. He swished it around while quickly combing his over long silver-blue hair; a rare occasion, but he looked too good to pass it up.

He spat, washed his face with a soft white towel with the letter 'S' on it, and just barely sprayed a bit of cologne on. A bit of stubble was forming on his chin, but it would have to slide this time. Overall, he actually felt quite optimistic about the day.

He just cracked the door open to leave when a blinding light knocked him back into reality. He needed something for that. He needed...

_Aha! _With a swift movement Steven was to his armoire, digging through the bottom drawer until he found them.

Amelie danced around his feet. His words from last night echoed in his mind: _I'll take father's pets for a walk. _Why not kill two birds with one stone?

_Two birds... two birds... Would it work?_ He could feel the gears turning, but it was a long shot.

Steven donned his aviator sunglasses and called the Aaron to him, taking off down the long corridor. It was now seven minutes until he needed to be at the lab. Drastic measures had to be taken.

When Steven reached the staircase he slid down the beam like he was seven years old again, but this time his father wasn't around to scold him when he got to the bottom.

The double doors slammed open as Steven burst through them. Four minutes. He took a deep breath and reached into his pocket. This was the same suit he was wearing when he first journeyed with... well, that was a long time ago.

As luck would have it, the Eon Flute was still in his pocket. Now he remembered why he hadn't worn this suit in such a long time. It reminded him of her.

He shook it off. Now was not the time. He brought the metal to his lips and played. He was a bit rusty. When the song was finished, he closed his eyes and waited with bated breath. A minute went by. Another, and the deep sound of wing beats filled his ears.

How Latias had a knack for always hearing him play no matter where she was was a mystery to Steven. He opened his eyes. She was just as he remembered; almost reptilian in facial features, white scales of what looked like opal, sloping down into enormous red feathered wings.

The magnificent creature landed beside him. He hadn't realized that tears were welling up in his eyes. The creature cawed and the sound struck his heartstrings. He let the tears fall. He took the Beast's head in his hands and pushed his forehead up to hers. He could almost laugh. He was almost... relieved? It wasn't the right word, but he felt a sense of belonging, like a part of his soul that was seemingly lost to time had been returned to him.

_Focus, _he thought. "Latias," he started, breathed, and said, "I need your help." The creature kneeled. It wasn't the time to get emotional, but having her here, now, after all these years and still willing to help him was moving on a whole other level. He leaned down to pick up Amelie, struggling to heave her onto Latias's mighty back. Once he secured her, he told her, "We need to go to Devon Labs," and with only a few beats of her angelic wings she soared high into the clouds, away from the mansion.

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**A shortie, I know. Thanks to SunMoon6798 and Blades of Chance for your reviews on the last chapter! ****Anyway, hope you liked this, and as always don't forget to favorite, follow, and review! I love hearing your opinions of the story so far. Follow me on Twitter throwingstevens :D**

**As always, much love everyone! Have a good night (or day)!**


	3. Chapter 3: The Good, the Bad, and the

**Hey Lovelies! Welcome~ 3**

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Chapter Three: the Good, the Bad, and the Astronomer

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If there was one thing that Latias was good at, it was making an entrance. Several civilians and pokemon scattered as the Latias came to a slow in the middle of a park directly opposite from the Devon Labs skyscraper. "Thank you!" he called as she soared away. She roared in response, and soon the beautiful creature was over the mountains and out of his sight.

Steven ran a quick comb through his hair and returned it to his pocket, putting on his best cool face and demeanor. He was sure his eyes looked like shit, what with being both hungover and having just had cried, but he had some huge bug-eye sunglasses for that. Even if he didn't, he felt so confident that he felt like he could do anything. All thoughts of May were immediately whisked away as if Latias had taken them with her.

He strolled through the doors of the lab with hands in pockets and little Amelie merrily trailing behind him. A long haired female doctor looking very sour who he recognized as Doctor Jang was lecturing a smaller, greasy male doctor in sign language in the corner. It must have been Doctor Chevalier, or Uncle Chev as he and his friends affectionately called him.

Doctor Paisley was at the end of the room, frantic as usual. His puffy, curly hair bounced as he hopped from desk to desk, a purple pen in one hand and a coffee mug in the other.

"The good doctor!" Steven greeted him cheerily.

Paisley jumped in surprise and turned to him. "Oh, it's you," he said, looking relieved. "You sound so much like your father these days I almost didn't recognize it was you, Mr. Stone. Only you're a bit more of a baritone than your father."

Steven smiled and thought of his days of being a choir tenor. He hadn't been in a choir in years, but he was pleased at the thought of singing a lower part. He'd always envied those who could. "How are the new running shoes coming along, doctor?"

Steven's happiness must've been contagious because the head doctor returned his smile. "Doing marvelously, sir. Take a look here..." Paisley beckoned him over with his coffee mug and Steven obliged. On a perfectly round glass table were two racks of test tubes, each filled with a slightly different color. Steven was confused. There should have only been one rack.

"I had an epiphany, sir," he started. "Running shoes 2.0 was a huge step- no pun intended- for Devon. It would be the fastest shoe on the market, nothing Silph could catch up with in years. But this idea that came to me well, it would revolutionize travel forever. I call it the Jumping Shoe."

"The Jumping Shoe?" Ah, so that's what the heel was. A spring.

"Quite right. This shoe would help you be able to go quite literally where no man has gone before without the help of Pokemon or without traveling great distances."

"Great work!" Steven usually didn't really care about this sort of thing, but Paisley sure was happy about it. Plus, this new invention did come about under his authority and that would certainly give him points with his father and hopefully help him leave this place as soon as possible to continue his archaeological work. "I fully approve! Continue work and we'll grant you the money you need to make this happen." Ugh, work speak. "If that's all, it was great seeing you. If you'll excuse me..."

"Ah, ah, ah, Mr. Stone," he chided. "You know the rules. Yearly checkup time." And as if rehearsed, Dr. Seitan crawled from the depths of the underworld. Well, he probably crawled from the depths of the underworld this morning to go to work. Really he just came out of his office, but he had that certain demonic look in his dark eyes that sent shivers all the way down Steven's spine.

"Mr. Stone," he hissed delightedly in his strange accent. "Right on time. If you are ready, please step inside." He curled his already disfigured face into a sort of snarl. "And... that one stays." He pointed at Amelie. She whimpered. If Paisley was the good doctor, that made Seitan the bad one.

_I will never be ready, _Steven thought, but it wasn't like he had a choice in the matter, much like everything else in his life. So he took a deep breath and stepped through the gates of hell.

The room smelled like a mixture of bleach and rubbing alcohol. Steven was used to clean quarters but this was uncomfortably sterile. The walls were an unsettling mint green, and there was a single hospital bed in the center. "Change into," the doctor commanded and threw him a dress that matched the walls. So much for his fancy suit.

After a while of ungraceful changing and grumpy muttering, Steven reluctantly knocked on the door to let the devil back in. He sat down on a sickly green leather chair, and faced his peril.

"Glasses off," he commanded. Steven hesitantly obeyed. The room wasn't that bright luckily, but it was still painful.

The doctor checked his teeth first. "Brush them more often," he said. When Steven was home he sometimes brushed them three times a day, but there wasn't much he could do when he was rock climbing. "Do you floss?"

Steven made a face and shrugged, and was met by an unamused glare.

Next he did his vitals. "All healthy," he said. Steven's good mood was deteriorating with each test.

"Take a deep breath."

"Tell me if this hurts."

"Ow!"

"Okay."

"Kick."

_Scribble._

Test after test after test.

_Poke. _"Ow!" This man had to have taken pleasure in his work.

"Alcohol level in bloodstream is... unnaturally high."

_Gulp._

_Scribble._

More tests.

"Finish."

"Ugh- wait, really?" Steven's eyes glimmered with hope.

"Wait- I lie."

"Oh, f- OW!"

"Now done."

Steven breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank Arceus."

Seitan chuckled low, which snapped Steven alert again and made the hairs on the back of his neck bristle. He walked over and jabbed Steven in the arm with his bony finger. Steven's hand instinctively covered the stinging spot. "You are get a bit more muscle, Mr. Stone. Must be from rock looking for, yes?"

_Shiver. _"Yes, doctor. Now if you will excuse me, I'd like to get dressed."

"Riiight," he drug out for a little too long and slipped out the door like the slimy slug he was.

_What a creep. _Steven hurriedly pulled on his clothes and left without looking back.

Steven's eyes stung. Everything in the office was a blur of bright light now. He was almost to the door when something suddenly blocked his way. He stopped dead in his path. _No, no no..._

"Hey, Steven!"

Wait. He recognized that voice. Steven rubbed his eyes and donned his sunglasses. Grey hair, round glasses, kind smile...

"Doctor Cozmo!" Steven was elated. Even living in Canyonville Steven rarely got to see Cozmo in person. It was usually just his grunts.

"Hey there, kiddo. Just coming by to drop off the recent lunar readings. It looks like there's a bit of extra activity and that's why I wanted to come here in person. I'll notify you if it turns out to be important, but really I'm just getting a second opinion."

"Oh, okay." Out of the corner of his eye he could see Seitan rushing toward him. He was calling his name. "Uh, sorry to cut this short, but I'm really late for a meeting, so... I have to go." Steven started backing up, fear in his eyes.

"Always so busy... but aren't we all?" Cozmo chuckled. "Well, you take care, now."

"Thanks, you too!" Steven said too quickly and pushed through the doors. Seitan was now yelling at him to stay put. He stopped and spun around on the sidewalk. "Cozmo!" he called.

The doctor turned around.

"Come visit more often." Steven smiled warmly. Cozmo returned the smile and carried on with his business. Seitan was now jogging.

Steven took off into a sprint. He thought of the Eon Flute in his pocket. _Well, if it worked once it'll work again, _he thought. He considered himself lucky to be in such good shape, otherwise playing the flute while running would have been a huge pain.

Amelie was barking beside him and panting, going as fast as her tiny stub legs could take her. "Arceus, Amelie!" Steven was grateful that the Aron was still a baby, weighing in at around 130lbs instead of upwards of 800. A glint came from the mountains. Latias had come back for him. He was so grateful. He was certain he would've been caught before long running from six-and-a-half foot tall Seitan, being only 5'9 himself. He always supposed he got his height from his mother's side since his father was barely 5'3.

The mighty roar echoed over Rustboro. Though flying pokemon and their loud noises weren't uncommon, onlookers from all directions turned their heads up to see what all the commotion was about. Steven furrowed his brow. Something about this roar was different. Something about it was... deeper.

In an instant the creature was beside him. It was the same build as Latias, sure. Broad wings, snow white back... but it was not her. "Latios?!" This day was full of surprises. The way the Eon Flute worked was it would call whichever pokemon was closest, either Latios or Latias. This meant that either Latias was hurt and couldn't come to his aide or... it meant that May was nearby. While Steven set Latias free to roam the word as she pleased, he was almost certain that May kept Latios close.

He shook his head. Getting lost in daydreams wouldn't help him. Steven grabbed Amelie and flung her onto Latios' back, then hopped on him himself. "Let's go!" he called, and in an instant they were soaring, only narrowly escaping the clutches of Doctor Seitan. Steven couldn't help but snicker, watching Seitan jump and yell and get smaller and smaller as he was whisked away.

Now that that crisis was averted, there was one more to be dealt with. "Latios..." he murmured, rubbing the great beast's head. "Will you take me home? And... where's May?"

Latios made a deep rumbling sound. He knew it to be a sound of contentment, which helped Steven's mind rest a little bit easier... but his heart? It seemed like it was beating a mile a minute.

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**Hmm...**

**As always don't forget to favorite, follow, and review! I love hearing your opinions of the story so far. Follow me on Twitter at throwingstevens :D**

**Much love everyone! Have a good night (or day)!**


	4. Chapter 4: A Brisk November

**Let it be known that I _adored _writing this chapter. I hope you all have as much fun reading it as I did writing it!**

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Chapter 4: A Brisk November

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Amelie hopped off Latios's back with a harsh _clang_ on the cement below and went upon her merry way. It was at that moment that Steven realized that he still hadn't taken his father's Rhyhorn or the other pokemon out yet.

He cursed under his breath as he slid off of Latios. _Well, it isn't like the massive creature would fit on Latias or Latios's back, anyway, _he thought to try and alleviate some of his guilt, _and besides, I need to take my own Pokemon out, too._

"Thank you, Latios!" he called after him, but Steven didn't turn around to see where he went. He didn't want to know.

_Oh, but he did._

Steven suddenly got a brilliant idea. On this perfectly sunny (albeit a bit chilly) November's Saturday, what better thing was there to do than to take a nice walk in the park? All he'd have to do was round up his Pokemon and he would have another thing checked off his long, long list.

Unbeknownst to him, he, apparently, had another thing coming when he walked through those insanely tall double doors. Mrs. Tuffette was pacing back and forth angrily in the large, gold ornamented room, her plump face several shades redder than usual. She caught his eye and looked daggers into him with her piercing blue eyes. "Mr. Stone! You skipped breakfast again!"

_Uh oh. _"Oh, dear me, did I? I'm sorry Mrs. Tuffette, time really got away from me this morning! You see, I had a meeting, and I'm afraid to say I didn't wake up in-"

"Oh, posh! You need your breakfast more than anything else in the morning! Those scientists should be smart enough to understand it, so they can wait!" She clicked her tongue and put her hands on her wide hips, covered with a long blue skirt and a blue polka-dotted apron. Steven always thought she resembled a pin cushion. "I even poured you that extra glass of milk that you wanted! Now it's all going to go to waste." She looked genuinely hurt.

Mrs. Tuffette was an extremely motherly old woman who lived in the mansion for most of the year, save for the very few days when her husband was home from the sea, though Steven could never remember his name. Mrs. Tuffette kept her hair in a neat grey bun atop her head that was rarely seen under her frilled bonnet. She had many of these bonnets, and many aprons to match, and she always wore different colors but was always color-coordinated. Steven had known her since she was Ms. Tuffette, when her hair was curly, long, and and light blonde, her back was a little straighter, and she was much less stout.

"Oh, I'm sorry Mrs. Tuffette," Steven said and put a hand on her back. "I'll come in for breakfast tomorrow, alright?"

"You'd better!" she commanded.

He laughed light-heartedly. "Yes, ma'am. Now, please excuse me..."

"Oh, you!" she slapped him in the same place Seitan jabbed him. He flinched a little. He was sure there would be a nice purple bruise there. "Always off somewhere between your meetings and your geology and scientists and..."

Steven was slowly climbing the stairs backwards, still smiling and nodding appropriately, until Mrs. Tuffette finally looked over and noticed he was half-way up and yelled, "Hey, get back here! I wasn't finished with you yet!" and Steven bolted. It seemed like he was running from most things these days.

He was almost to his room when a wet-faced, red-eyed woman attacked him from nowhere. "Mr. Stone, how could you!?" she wailed.

_Uh-oh. _"Oh-uh-um Morgan, hey," he stammered, suddenly unsure of himself.

"Mr. Stone, why do I have to leave? That terrible assistant of yours just gave me the notice. I can't believe her! But I don't really have to leave... right?" Morgan persuaded and sniffled.

"Oh Arceus, Morgan..." Steven was not expecting this at all. But he knew he should have been. He felt like a fool. "I... Morgan you... you have to go. I'm sorry."

She wiped her face. Steven didn't even realize how young she was until just then, maybe fifteen or sixteen years old, and with those big eyes staring up at him, it almost reminded him of... Nope. Never mind.

Suddenly, her whole demeanor changed. She lidded her eyelids heavily and her stance became... not-so-helpless seeming. She put one finger on his chest and inched it down slowly. He put up his hands instinctively and bristled. "Come on now, Mr. Steel... I thought we had something special..." her voice was a low purr.

_Nope. Nope, nope, nope._ Every inch of his skin was screaming _no. _Steven stood up straight and regained himself. "There is no negotiation. You will be off the premises in thirty days," he hesitated, "and our relationship is, and always has been, strictly business, Morgan."

Steven instantly regretted the words the moment they came out of his mouth. Now the girl took on an entirely different persona. _Arceus, what a rollercoaster, _he thought.

"Strictly business, Steven?! I've been working here for nine months and we talk every time I see you! And remember that one time, Steven..." The seductress was back.

Oh, he remembered alright. "You attacked my face with yours when I was walking down the hall."

Her eyes narrowed. "You don't have the authority to fire me."

"I have complete authority over the household whenever my father is gone on business. That includes staff," he said completely emotionless. He hated having to fire people. They had lives, they didn't need the bad news of the axe that he often had to bear. Sometimes the only way he could bear it was to just shut off his feelings completely at put on a persona.

She sniffled once, then starting wailing, pieces of her long, dark red hair sticking to her face with the wetness. This went on for a good minute and a half before she finally spoke again. "Fine! I don't need you, I don't need this place, I don't need ANYTHING!" Morgan near screamed.

Steven stared blankly, despite the emotional turmoil.

She screamed and stomped away. Steven had just turned to leave when he was immediately yanked back and pulled downwards by the tie, the crazed maiden pulling him into a tight kiss. He flailed and struggled to break free, protesting in gargled noises the whole time. She tongued his lips, which were kept tight against the assault. Finally, after what seemed like ten minutes (though it really could've been just a few seconds) she released him. Steven stood, slightly slumped, trying best to maintain his composure through gasps and coughs.

"I FUCKING HATE YOU!" she screamed and ran out.

He wiped his mouth. "Dear fucking Arceus..." he breathed. "This is why I drink."

Cautiously, Steven moved toward his room, He grabbed his bag full of Pokeballs and looked at the clock on his wall. Three o'clock was hardly time for lunch, but his stomach was roaring at this point and he wasn't about to go downstairs to be lectured by Mrs. Tuffette again.

Steven set the Eon Flute down on his bedside table, deciding its removal would take is his mind off... things. He then equally cautiously descended the staircase, hoping the door hinges had been recently oiled so he could slip by undetected, and to his relief they were.

"Go, Rhyhorn!" he said, opening the Pokeball, deciding that his father's Pokemon were best to get out of the way first. Aron was already done, but he wasn't around anyway. Probably found himself a nice comfy place to take a nap. Steven smiled at the thought. "Come on, buddy. We're going for a walk.

The autumn leaves were all near gone, but the ones that were still there were deep red and gorgeous. It was nearing his favorite season quickly. He could've taken his Skarmory, but he liked to see the leaves from the below.

Rustboro Hills was mostly composed of houses, with a high-brow finishing school where he spent many of his days, and a few restaurants here and there. There was a bakery that was good, but not as good as Mrs. Tuffette's cooking and a few high-class five-star restaurants that were booked months in advance. He was headed toward the city of Rustboro, which had all of the things that Rustboro Hills did not.

It didn't take more than twenty minutes to descend down the steep path and into the city. Once he reached it, he switched Rhyhorn for Metagross. Most people were finished with lunch at this time so he didn't think he'd have a problem finding a table... All he needed was a restaurant that was open between lunch and dinner.

He could go the elegant path and try for that new Kalosian restaurant down the street or... he could go to Pizza Jim's. Pizza Jim's was by far the best place to get pizza in town, but also the most run down. But who really cared, right? And another plus, there would definitely be nobody he knew there.

Pizza Jim's was only a short walk. The streets weren't very busy, but there were a few people around; mostly younger kids and older folks. The younger people would be out later at night, when Chinch-U, the nightclub opened. Of course, they called it a nightclub, but it was a school dance compared to Dustoxic in Mossdeep City.

Steven looked up at the big red and white sign in front of the green building that said "Pizza Jim's!" on it. He returned his Metagross to her pokeball and pushed through the glass door, a little bell on the handle jingling to make his presence known.

Inside there were a few red diner tables with metal chairs matching the red and white tile. The room was about the size of his bedroom at home, which would tell anyone that the place was mostly takeout and delivery if they missed the signs in the big windows outside. Despite the size of the restaurant, there were three tables inside and two outside and only one of them was filled. It was perfect.

"Heeey, Steven!" Pizza Jim called to him from the black counter. Light up menu signs hung on the wall behind the tall, tan man with long, blonde, spiked hair. He was big and jolly like a beach bum Santa Claus and had an infectious grin that made you wonder if he could've been Santa's little brother.

"Jim! Long time no see, buddy!" Steven beamed.

"Dad made ya come back again, did 'e?" His voice was naturally low and always laid back.

"Yeah," he chuckled.

"Man, that sucks. But at least I'll be seeing you more often, am I right? Well, until..." Suddenly Pizza Jim's face lost a bit of glow.

"What?"

He scratched the back of his head. "Just got the notice from the bank. We haven't been getting business we used to, y'know? Sixty days and I'm out."

"What?! No!" There was no way that Steven's favorite pizza place in the world closing down. "There has to be another way! You can get a lawyer, somehow there has to be a way you can convince them..."

Pizza Jim shook his head. "Not that simple, kiddo. There's no convincing these guys even if I had the money for a lawyer." Steven glanced behind him, just noticing the moving boxes stacked up.

"Pizza Jim," Steven changed his tone into a more serious one and looked Pizza Jim straight in the eyes. "I would like ten extra-large pizzas."

Jim through his head back into a loud, hearty laugh. "Steven, man, I appreciate what you're trying to do for me here, but ten pizzas isn't really going to make a huge difference-"

"Then make it fifteen. Give me three Unovans with extra garlic and bacon, six Omanyte Deluxes, two Groudon Face-Melters, three Rustboro specials, and..." His steely gaze was unwavering.

"Ste-"

"One pepperoni pineapple with jalepenos."

"You can't-"

"I most certainly can and I most certainly will." Being a businessman did at times come with it's perks. He could convince a person that they were a duck if he had the time. In fact, he did once, though neither of them completely... had their wits about them. "How long?"

"I-um, two hours tops? But-"

"Wonderful. And when the first pizza's done will you bring it outside? I'm starved. Thaaanks," he sang and left before Jim had the chance to argue.

He exhaled loudly as he sat in a metal chair just outside, beginning to warm his hands by rubbing them together.

"That's a hell of a lot of pizzas," the person sitting at the other table behind him said, making him jump. He turned his head so fast it almost gave him whiplash, but there was nobody there.

Steven turned back and blew out slowly.

"...especially for just one guy." Steven jumped again. The person was now in front of him.

Steven laughed nervously. "Oh, hey Selenium." He put on a sort of guilty grin.

She waited.

"Er, s-sorry about the other day, you see and I was a bit under the weather-"

"You mean drunk off your ass."

"-eeyeah that and I wasn't quite myself so yeah, I'm really sorry Selenium."

She took a bite of her pizza and waited for more.

"And I'm an adult with the angst of a fifteen year-old who has no respect for himself or others?"

She chewed.

"I'll... buy you pizza...?"

"I don't want your money," she quickly snapped. "This pizza has already been paid for with your money. I work for you."

"You know Selenium, you're right. I didn't want to give you money anyway. I wanted to give you something more special, more personal, but I haven't quite gotten it yet. But I will," he assured her.

"Sure."

They both looked at each other, Steven sheepishly and awkwardly, Selenium with clear coldness.

After a bit of this staring contest, Selenium got up. "I'm late," was all she said, took her black and gold brand name purse and left.

Only seconds after, Jim came out carrying what smelled like the Omanyte Deluxe. "Man, who was that chick?"

"An... acquaintance," Steven answered.

"She looked so mad at you, bro. Whatever you did, you're in deep."

"Can I also order a tall glass of wine to go with these?"

"ID?"

Steven just looked at him.

"I have to ask!" he defended.

Steven groaned and handed him his wallet. "Also I forgot to pay, so just take the credit card with you when you go, please."

Pizza Jim chuckled. "Alright, man, whatever you say."

"What?" Steven demanded.

"You're just pretty loose about your credit card into a bank with hundreds of millions of poke in it."

"I trust you," he said.

Pizza Jim just shrugged and went back inside.

Steven opened the box and the smell of delicious hot pizza wafted into the air. He took a bite of the fantastic smelling white sauce, garlic, mushroom, and calamari slice. Who needed fancy? Pizza Jim's was heart and soul. Also delicious beyond words.

Jim was out with his wine in about a minute. He turned to leave, but Steven caught him before he left. He downed the glass in less than ten seconds. "More?" he asked.

Pizza Jim shook his head, chuckled, and left.

Steven had another hour and twenty minutes to kill after he stuffed himself and had two more glasses of wine. By that time, he was feeling pretty good about himself and decided it was best to check some things off his list that was lengthening, he was sure, by the minute.

He pulled his Pokenav Plus 4 (a new, unreleased version of the Pokenav Plus) from his pocket and scrolled through it. Martinov was scheduled to pick up a suit that had been partially eaten by Dustoxes later today, but why did Martinov need to come all the way down here when Steven was just across from the tailor?

He pulled a pen from his bag and wrote on the pizza box in big letters 'WENT TO DO ERRANDS, BE BACK SOON' and made his way toward the tailor.

Mr. Wiggins, the awkward, extremely tall tailor with little round glasses had his suit, but Steven didn't have his credit card. He groaned and recrossed the street to get it back from Pizza Jim.

On his way back he encountered a tall girl with black hair in a green outfit from his school. She snickered. "Look! It's the _prince."_ she said nastily. "Oh please, sir! Don't take my job!" she whined venomously and laughed. "And he's eating at this _dump. _Good thing it's shutting down soon, I'll probably get Parases by just walking by it."

Steven turned, and without skipping a beat he said pleasantly, "You probably already have Parases. Aren't you a cheap whore that works at that snooze of a nightclub?" Steven despised that place. He had better things to do than hang out with wine-cooler sipping high schoolers.

She stopped walking, mouth hanging open, dumbfounded. He ought to have launched something into it, but he thought better of it.

It was an uneventful saunter to the dry cleaners. He paid for the suits from Mr. Wiggins and checked the time. Forty-five minutes left. "Damn," he cursed at his watch.

A little jingle came from the door as Steven reentered the restaurant. "Hey, Jim," Steven sang. "How's the pizza coming?" Steven asked when he returned.

"Just one left, actually. It should be done in a few minutes here."

"Grand!" he said and noticed Jim's daughter boxing pizzas in the back. She was much darker in complexion with bright blue eyes unlike her father's dark brown ones. "Kashvi! How is everything?" he asked.

She turned toward him and gave him a quizzical look. "Fine, I suppose."

"That's great!" he said. "How's your mom doing?"

"She's... good."

"That's wonderful. I miss her," Steven said. He'd known Pizza Jan ever since he started coming to Pizza Jim's. She had to stop working at the restaurant when she contracted an illness about a year back.

"All finished," Kashvi said.

"Receipt?" Pizza Jim asked.

Steven rocked back and forth on his heels. "No, thank you," he said, grinning internally.

The two piled up the pizzas in front of him. Steven quickly realized he didn't know how he was going to get them all home.

"Do you... Perchance have a dolly I could use to get these home? I'll get it back to you tonight, promise."

Kashvi looked worriedly at her dad, as if trying to warn him. She went to the finishing school as well and always tried to stay as far away from Steven as possible.

"Ah, why not." Jim wheeled a rusty blue one from behind the boxes and helped Steven load them up.

"Thanks so much!" he said to them and waved goodbye. Jim waved back, but Kashvi only crossed her arms and pouted.

Steven set Skarmory free to stretch his wings and meet him back at the house and let out both of his Aggrons to walk up with him.

If the icy wind that bit Steven's nose didn't warn of the frigid season that was about to come, everything else did. The spindly, crooked fingers of naked branches raked the sky. The few leaves that littered the ground were no longer in crisp, inviting mounds, but brown and soggy from the recent rains. Steven imagined that pop-up ice skating rinks would soon litter every nook and cranny of the town. He thought of the smell of warm drinks wafting through the air and the soft yellow fairy lights mingling with icicles on every eave.

The nice thoughts distracted Steven for a time from how woefully underdressed he was coming to realize he was. By the time he reached the house, most of the effects of the wine he'd had at Pizza Jim's had worn off completely, leaving him not only freezing but exhausted from pushing the dolly up all of those hills.

He practically slumped against the double doors, using his body to take the weight of them.

He called for Martinov, and his butler was there in under a minute. "Martinov, will you help me take these pizzas to the kitchen?" he asked a bit raggedly, and scratched the back of his head.

Between the two of them they got all of those fifteen pizzas into the kitchen in a single trip and to Steven's great relief, Mrs. Tuffette was not in the kitchen to yell at him.

"I have to return this dolly to Pizza Jim..." said Steven, not looking forward to the journey back.

"No sir, please, let me," said Martinov valiantly.

Steven waved him away. "No, no. This is my problem."

"Sir, you look exhausted. I insist."

Steven brightened up a bit. "Thank you, Martinov, you really have no idea how much that means to me," he added, "Oh, and you don't have to get my suit, by the way, I got it for you." He pointed to his shoulder on which it was draped.

"Thank you, sir. That was very gracious of you."

"Aw, don't thank me," he replied bashfully. Martinov was actually pretty buff for an older guy, so he doubted he'd have any issue.

Martinov bowed and took the dolly out the door. The sun had almost set.

Steven dragged himself up the stairs sluggishly and threw his room door open, beginning to undress. He had all of his top clothes entirely off when he heard a harsh noise coming from the balcony.

Curiously but cautiously he unlatched the immaculate glass doors. To his surprise, his unexpected visitor was none other than Latios, scratching his talons against the wall.

"Latios!" he exclaimed. "What is it? You have to go home!" he tried to shoo him away, but he would not budge. "Latios, go! Go on! Lati-"

"Steven?" came a familiar voice from behind him.

Steven froze in his tracks. An electric shock went through his body and left the hair on the back of his neck on end.

"May?"

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_**Oooooh **_**we gettin' spicy in here! Don't forget to follow, review, and sub! As always, love you guys!**


	5. Chapter 5: Old Bridges

**Welcome back, kiddies.**

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Chapter 5: Old Bridges

Steven turned to look. He was dumbfounded. How was she here? When did she get here?

Steven didn't have time to try to even attempt to find something to say before another surprising face peeked from around the corner. "Hey, Steven!" Joseph Stone said with shocking, uncharacteristic joy. _Oh no, _Steven thought. Was he in trouble? He went through every possible incident that it could be at lightspeed.

"I'm back from my trip to Petalburg!" Mr. Stone said enthusiastically.

There was a moment of unnerving silence. "I can see that," Steven replied slowly and cautiously. "Tell me again, father, what the purpose of your journey was?"

"Good Arceus, you need a shave. And a shirt!" he detracted. "Mrs. Tuffette, will you kindly show Ms. May to her quarters? Steven needs some time to properly present himself," he chuckled pretentiously. Mrs. Tuffette stood behind him, no doubt about to chew Steven out for the pizzas, but she obliged his father with a sweet smile. She didn't want to be seen yelling at him in front of the boss, Steven supposed. Mrs. Tuffette took a jarred May by the hand and pulled her out of the room. The girl he once knew, now a young woman looked back with an expression he couldn't quite pinpoint. As quickly as she came, she was gone again.

Steven touched his face. It was still just stubble but it was getting longer by the hour. He'd always thought himself lucky to have his beard and mustache (which were awful things alone, in his opinion) come in at the same time and...

His thoughts ca me to a slow. "_And a shirt!" _echoed in the back of his mind. Steven looked down and jumped. He'd entirely forgotten that he wasn't wearing anything but pants. He shook himself and crossed his arms over his chest, turning away to try to conceal the warmth that was growing in his cheeks and ears.

"Her quarters?! Father-"  
"Steven, May has come to live with us for the school year." Steven opened his mouth to protest, but his father had kept right on speaking. "She's a good girl and I've known her for many years. She's helped us countless times, so when Norman mentioned that they didn't have money to send her to college I quickly took up the cause."

Steven, though infuriated that his father hadn't told him any of this beforehand, knew he wasn't going to let him talk. He took the time to redress. "Think about how good it will make Devon look, Steven! I can see the headlines now- Selfless President of Devon Corp Takes In Misfortuned Girl," the short man gestured in the air. Steven was disgusted with him. He moved to the bathroom to shave.

"Oh, come on. May's your old friend! You don't have to be so cold about this!"

"I thought that's what good and proper businessmen were. Cold as ice," he retorted calmly, scraping cream off his face with a straight razor.

"You listen here," his voice suddenly got lower. Steven was used to this. He didn't even look. "You'll be nice and you'll show her around. You'll smile for the media and you'll be a good little boy, you got it?"

Ugh, more media. All the attention from her championship had just died down enough so that he could go out in public. He didn't need any more attention.

"I'm not a little boy anymore," snapped Steven.

"If you keep acting like one that's how I'll treat you," he bit back and left the room.

Steven took a deep breath and looked at himself in the mirror, giving himself a silent pep talk. _You can do this, Steven. It's just May. She's just a friend, just like Father said. Ready... go! _He splashed cold water on his face, wiped it with a towel, and took off.

Steven was pretty sure May was in the Rose Room, his favorite guest room in the house. This was partially because it was a gorgeous room and it led straight to the gardens, but even more so because it was his nursery when he was a child.

Steven knocked on the closed, rounded door. There was a brief pause, as if May was wondering whether or not to let him in. "Come in," she finally said. Steven sucked in a huge breath. He hadn't realized that he hadn't been breathing.

May was sitting in the large, golden, four poster bed. Its poofy white down comforter was a bit wrinkled under the weight of her large suitcase. She looked so... different. Her hair was much shorter, so much that it only barely reached her shoulders. It was tied up in her usual red bandana, but instead of using it as a cap, she used it as more of a hairband. She traded in her shorts and t-shirt for light wash skinny jeans and gray graphic tank-top. Where she used to have tennis shoes she donned yellow rainboots. The only thing that was the same were her big, blue eyes and soft walnut hair. Steven figured she had to be about nineteen now.

"Are you gonna say something or just stand there?"

Steven blinked, realizing he hadn't said anything. He wasn't sure if May was serious or just messing with him. "Er... Are you hungry?"

A few moments later the two had made their way to the kitchen. It was a soft yellow, and very homey. Mrs. Tuffette made a point of cutting fresh flowers from the garden in the spring and summer to place in vases. When they were out of season, she would order them. Today, there were sunflowers.

"Um..." he started, "Do you still like pepperoni and pineapple with jalapenos on your pizza?"

May looked at him with another unreadable expression and leaned against a counter. "Is that even a question? 'Course I do."

"How many slices do you want?"

She shrugged. "I haven't eaten since breakfast so... How many do you have?"

He looked her straight in the eye, blue against blue, and said with a steely gaze, "I have fifteen pizzas."

After a few seconds of staring at each other with completely blank looks, the two burst out laughing. They laughed for a good long while, not because Steven was funny or because she thought he was kidding but because of the reason that, though neither of them would say it out loud, they really missed each other.

Steven looked up and met her gaze again. "I'm serious, though," he said through a bubble of laughter.

May wiped her eyes. "I definitely believe you. Can we go with... three slices?"

Steven ended up putting the whole pizza in the oven just in case and a kettle on the stove for tea and the two went to sit in the breakfast nook.

"So... how did you end up with fifteen pizzas?" May started.

"Well, it was actually ten originally..."

The two sat and bantered for a long while, though it felt very short to the both of them. It was a joyous and carefree conversation, that was, until the conversation died down.

"Four years," May said.

Steven was quiet.

She went on in a very small voice. "Why did you leave?"

He shook his head. "Maybird- I mean May," he corrected, "you don't want to know. You really, really don't want to know. Trust me on this one."

"But I do! You owe that much," she said, and pulled out the puppy dog eyes.

If Steven were not trained in the arts of the heartless businessman, they would've worked. "No, May," he insisted. "We might talk about it one day, but not... not today, okay?" She wasn't ready to know was what he really meant, and he didn't think she ever would be.

She pouted. "Fine. But promise me you'll tell me someday?"

Steven hesitated. A small voice in his head screamed no, but he knew that she was right. He owed this to her. "Fine," he said softly. Maybe someday when one of them was on their deathbed, she would finally learn what happened. In the meantime he would do everything in his power to keep her from finding out. He glanced at the clock behind him. "So... it's two in the morning."

"What?" May giggled. "No way!"

"I know!" he said, absentmindedly petting the Aron on his lap. "Maybe we should get some sleep. Boss says I have to show you around tomorrow and get this- he wants me to be NICE to you," Steven played.

May gasped. "What horror! You should quit," she said matter-of-factly.

"Believe me, I've been trying for a good long time." He chuckled emotionlessly and took the sleeping Aron off his lap. It just curled up into a ball next to him. "Anyway, even if you're not going to bed, _I _am since I have to deal with a strange young woman who wandered into my house _all day _tomorrow." He nudged the Aron off his lap and shifted his dead legs

"What a pain."

"It really is," he agreed, stood up, and winced from the pins and needles.

Steven hesitated before he left. "Do you know how to get back to your room?"

May grimaced. "Actually, I could probably use a little help."

"Well, let's go then. I don't have all night. Er, morning," he corrected.

May smiled. However small of a thing that was, it was wondrous and sincere and made Steven's head flood with memories.

"After you, milady." Steven gestured to the door and he followed her out.

"Really, it's not that difficult." Steven's voice echoed down the hall. "From your room you take the corridor straight down, turn right, climb down the staircase, turn right again and you're in the kitchen. The bathroom is just down that same corridor and to the left, second door." They were at the entrance to her primrose papered room.

May still seemed uncertain.

"Do you um... still have my Pokenav number?" Steven asked awkwardly.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure..." she answered, looking down at her yellow boots.

"Then just call me if you get lost and I'll come and get you," he reassured her. "You'll get used to it eventually, I promise."

"O-okay..." she nodded.

He scratched the back of his head. "Don't worry about it. I'll help you with anything you need, alright?"

"Yeah, okay..." May replied absentmindedly, like she was somewhere else for a moment.

Steven didn't want to leave her, but he knew he had things to do the next day and couldn't afford to lose any more sleep. "Good night," he said.

"'Night," she said softly. Steven heard the click of her door as it smoothly opened and closed behind her.

Climbing the stairs to his room, Steven thought about the events of the day. Mostly about May. His heart fluttered at the thought of her being back in his life, but he couldn't afford it to. He couldn't drag her into this life that he had. This life warped and poisoned people, and he didn't want that to happen to her. He didn't want her to end up like Duskstone.

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***eyebrow wiggle***

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